Summary: Noé fears that he has become a curse-bearer. But this curse is strange, as it seems to be a curse that he has not recognized from all the other curses he and Vanitas have seen in their travels. No, this is different.
A curse of feelings, feelings Noé is unable to understand, feelings he cannot discern. He can only compare them to what he may have felt towards Louis all those years ago, but this is stronger, more persistent. Something he has to find an outlet for to quell it.
He turns to drastic measures to feel nothing at all. Noé/Vanitas, yaoi, angst
Rated M: Drug Abuse
Chapter Word Count: 2,553
Disclaimer: I shall forever not own any character as owned by Mochizuki Jun/Square Enix/Studio Bones. I'm just innocently borrowing them and making them do not-so-innocent things
Poison
Chapter 3
Noé's days have congealed together, intertwined to the point he couldn't recollect how long he'd been like this, what day it even was anymore. It was a blur of vivid dreams and sluggish reality.
He still had a small piece of paper somewhere, something important Teacher had given him before his initial trip for Paris. Telegraphic transfer of funds were becoming more prominently used, and Noé had been given the paper to use for settlement instructions and the account number listed – Teacher had pressed it was "to be only used in case of emergency."
This had most certainly counted as an "emergency", did it not?
He could recall the prices – the initial laudanum bottles were 10 francs a piece, each five ounce ration of opium was 42 francs – but the exact total billing had long since been forgotten and uncared for, the amount of products used cloudy in his memory and indiscernible.
There was a hotel conveniently located in the upper floors of the same building as La Flamme Des Rêves. In the times he'd actually sleep there, he might wake up and leave, going to the café next door for some coffee or a small meal. Sometimes his appetite may wane partway through.
He might go for a walk and take in the city. As his first time in Marseille, his natural curiosity took his legs around the streets, back and forth between the human side and Altus. But other days, the thought of being seen by other people was outright repulsive and didn't dare leave the building.
Bathing was occasional, seen as 'unnecessary'; Noé would think about it in the times he were lying in bed or lying next to the opium pipe and find it preposterous. But he had come to enjoy showers within a particular timeframe of coming down from the high of the drug – still feeling light, but finally able to move. The warm water falling down his skin felt truly divine.
Most of his time was spent inside the den. The vampire had genuinely come to enjoy the company of Simonne – he was beyond grateful of her knowledge and attentiveness to any of his needs. She engaged him in enlightening conversations – each person inside the den was running away from something in life, even those that worked there. Simonne was no different.
Her assistance and teachings of the opium pipe were so highly valued so that he could drift away into dreams.
Dreams of the dhams, causing mischief in Paris or the countryside.
Dreams of Louis, the peace it brought to sit next to him again and see him smile.
Dreams of Lord Ruthven, holding him up by the neck, a promise on his lips that he can't quite remember.
Dreams of Teacher, basking in the light of the blue moon together.
This time, Noé is falling, running – had been following Vanitas, unable to gain ground and catch up. He trails behind in desperation – needs to catch up, catch him – but the heir of the blue moon is so elusive, as if running away is what he does best.
Vanitas
Falls into a maze of white. It's blinding, the purity of the walls and floor. Noé rushes forward to a door as he suddenly recalls his urgent mission to get to Vanitas. Opens the white door to be met with another white room with white doors. Rushes in and begins again, pulling open door after door while squinting through the brightness.
Vanitas
Where could he have gone? Noé searches in urgency, a full feeling of absolute dread filling his veins as if something truly terrible would occur if the vampire doctor wasn't found. The hopelessness amplified with each empty room, each door that he yanked open in vain. His body screamed to be paralyzed in fear, but his absolute resolve overrode everything.
Vanitas
There were whispers, calling, begging. Was it coming from nonexistent shadows, his mind, his very lips? Almost pleading – heed my call, please be okay, please –
Vanitas
Noé opened a door and stumbled over his feet in his own haste. He caught and righted himself upon noticing he'd tripped into a cave. The dark walls were slick with old moisture, patches of moss dotting its texture intermittently with green. However, before him was a patch of bloomed astermite flowers, their blue light brightening the cave enough to see well. In the middle of the patch stood the very Vanitas Noé had been so longingly searching for. The human had his back towards Noé, looking over his shoulder with the slightest expression of surprise.
"Noé," he'd begun to say, "What are you do-!"
He was immediately cut off in his thought, said vampire rushing up with all his speed to pull him into his arms. Complete relief washed through Noé, having finally found and caught Vanitas. Held the human close, nuzzling and inhaling at the skin at his neck, the scent overwhelming – this was all Noé had wanted, the urge that had sunk deep into his very bones. Not even for Vanitas' blood, just to hold him and savor the feeling of closeness and scent. Pulled the human against himself tighter, never wanting to let go now that he had it.
And as Noé distantly dreamed of the embrace he so longed for, Simonne sat beside him, silently wiping away a stray tear that fell from glazed amethyst eyes.
~X~
There is still so much I don't know…
Noé ruminates as he prepares the chandu pellet as Simonne had shown him. Forming it to the end of the skewer, careful not to manipulate it too much or touch it due to being flamed first by the oil lamp, too hot to touch. Placed it delicately into the ceramic bowl, ready to settle down onto his side and inhale the vapors of the heated opium from the end of the heavy wooden pipe.
He recognized his despondency. It was the same type of feelings as long ago, like losing Louis all over again. Wishing he could sleep for days on end, not wake from the dreams. So the vampire readied the source that easily took him there.
Simonne was nearby, having brought him the plate of tools. She watched him while wearing an expression of mild curiosity; she sometimes partook in opium alongside him, others she took a few drops of laudanum or smoked cannabis from her long cigarette holder to achieve the high while still able to hold quiet conversation. Today she seemed interested in neither.
"Have you experienced pleasures of the flesh before, dear Noé?"
"…No," he answered honestly. His virginity had never been a priority.
"Oh? Saving it for someone special, then?"
Vanitas flashed through his mind, the fantasies he'd held of touching pale, human skin. Wishing, always wishing.
"No."
The brunette smiled sweetly as she sat down close to Noé. Her perfume tickled his nose, mingled easily with the scent of her skin, her hair. "You've been so sad, even the opium doesn't seem to be enough to take it away sometimes." Her hand fell to his thigh, his gaze falling along with it. "Let me make you feel good, then?" she whispered, "take all your sorrows away for just a while?"
Noé's head is beginning to feel floaty from the high – his eyes close for a blink, but then they open and Simonne is somehow already straddling his lap and kissing his neck. She has his wrist, bringing his hand to her thigh and sliding his palm higher against her bare skin under her dress. It's soft, a firmness to it but enough give to properly grasp. She smells nice, and the weight across his thighs feels nice, too. She has to be unbuttoning his shirt because his chest now feels the air he hadn't prior.
He then suddenly recalls the once Domi has tried to seduce him, much like this, several years ago. How he'd gently coaxed her off of his lap, unable to look into the pain of her expression as he did so. "It's not you, Domi," he explained, his voice quiet, "I love you so much, just… not like that…" Having to work up the courage to admit aloud his lack of attraction towards women, holding none in the regard Domi wanted.
After the initial sting of rejection, Domi had told him once that it was okay to hold more of an attraction towards males, Noé taking that as the approval he'd longed for. She enjoyed poking her fun by referring to herself as his fiancé, but with full knowing between them that it could never be.
And now Noé had a just as attractive – if not more – of a woman against his body, against his lips. His brain recognizes how beautiful Simonne is, that other men would love to be in this very position-
But he can't.
He feels… nothing.
Nothing in his body wanted this to continue.
Noé pulls his face away, leaning his forehead to her shoulder. Takes his hands off of her to delicately grasp her own, so that she would stop touching his bared chest.
"Noé?"
"I-" he began, but his voice came out as a croak. What would he possibly say to make this better? Without losing her support- as a teacher, as a needed friend during his turmoil? "I can't," he said finally, voice a little stronger. "I don't – It's not you, you've been wonderful to me – I just, I-"
Fingertips brushed his cheek, raising his gaze to hers. "What troubles you? There is no shame in this."
He turned the words over in his mind, how best to very carefully put it. "I… my body, it…" Noé took a deeper breath. "My body… would be unable to… to perform for you. Or any woman."
"Oh." Watching Simonne's expression shift was its own entertainment. "Oh?" Brow furrowed in obvious confusion. Until seconds later it lit with understanding. "Oh!" She then moved from his lap in haste, seeming to fully understand his implication. "Oh Noé, I'm so sorry! I hadn't realized!"
He couldn't help but chuckle at how fast she's gotten off of him. "It's alright. I'm pretty sure the only other person I've told is my best friend."
"Oh Noé," Simonne said as she straightened her dress down. She then touched by his knee, looking up at him to catch his downturned gaze. "There's still no shame in that, I want you to understand. I feel no differently about you, and I thank you for telling me. However, now I have a different idea," she said with a smile of reassurance as she stood, going to leave the room.
He didn't need wait long, the hostess reappearing with another person following. She stood aside to let Noé see who had been travelling behind. "This is Aristide," Simonne introduced, motioning towards the male next to her side. "He is a good friend of mine, and works here, as well."
Aristide had skin like pale, creamy porcelain. The fabric of the shirt he wore was thin and the length short, allowing Noé to see the details of the defined chest, the smoothness of his abdomen. Steel eyes locked with his own, plush lips forming into a smirk.
"Au revoir, monsieur Noé," he greeted.
Simonne lightly touched one of Aristide's stray, sand colored curls that framed his ears. "He is also very well versed in the pleasures of a man's body," she said quietly.
Noé couldn't help but stare in awe. Knows part of it is due to the opium coursing in his system, beginning to take his thinking away. Knows this person, of which he couldn't estimate even an age but guesses to be around the same as himself, is very much pleasing to look at.
Aristide walked across and without further ado, straddled the vampire's thighs and took a seat.
"I hear you'd like to feel good," he said suggestively.
Noé didn't know what to do with his hands, hovering them away from Aristide. Looking down and around, utterly flabbergasted but unable to form much of a coherent thought. "I… I, um…"
Aristide leaned closer, closer to his ear to whisper, "Would you rather quench your thirst with my blood first, before fully partaking in my body?"
His mind was struggling against the high of the drug; a gasp escaped, the lewdness of his words forcing a blush to dust his cheeks.
Blood…
Blood.
He hasn't had blood in weeks.
The mere mention of blood causing the elongation of his fangs behind his lips. The familiar tingle, the stretch.
Watching as Aristide tilted his head, his expression of amusement. "Oh, your eyes turn such a pretty shade of red…"
Said eyes closed- No, he needed to focus. "I- I can read memories. Through blood," said Noé. Ever the gentleman, always so careful to forewarn (just as Teacher had told him to).
Aristide smiled wider – a pretty smile, suited his facial features well, grey eyes seeming to glow with mischief. "Hmmmm… I wonder which of my memories you would find? I'm sure you'll find them quite entertaining…" He leaned forward, teasing at Noé's neck, his ear, with those lovely lips. "Go ahead," he whispered, his voice dripping with seduction and causing a stir to go straight to Noé's loins. "I'll be sure to take care of you in every way."
The skin of the pretty neck right at his lips was just so alluring, reeling him in-
Noé bit down, the initial gush hitting his mouth and causing him to moan. Swallowing in greed before being pulled under into the memories of Aristide- memories of this very den, dark, filled with the hazy smoke of opium and cigarettes. Men and women, no discrimination – pleasure, so much pleasure. Writhing of bodies together under different colored lights. An orgy of blood drinking, stray trails of red lingering from lips. Aristide begging- more, more-
The vampire came back to himself with a gasp; at some point in his traversal of hazy memories, his hands had unconsciously grasped the human's ass and had been grinding hips together. The sear of pressure against his hardened groin was ecstasy.
"What did you see, dear Noé?" Aristide asked lightly. They were both so hard…
Noé's brain couldn't fathom an articulate answer, the moans and sights of the memories still replaying on repeat. Of actions and feelings he'd never experienced – wanted to, sure, but now stared in awe at this person who'd experienced these things so many times over.
Aristide wiped at the side of Noé's lips with his thumb, likely a stray trail of blood that had escaped. His gaze scalded the vampire. "Well?" he goaded. His hands fell to rid Noé of his shirt. "Interested?"
More. His body whispered. The pressure across his hips, against his cock was exquisite – more…
Something new to make him not think, take it away possibly better than the opium.
More
With this person who obviously knew his way with the body, in which made his skin fire as hands petted along his chest.
More
With a lopsided but alluring smile. Knowing.
"Yes."
Simonne had been watching the two of them while leaning against the doorway, arms crossed and silent. She continued to watch each detail as Aristide expertly rid them both of bothersome clothes, and elected to continue watching as Noé gave in.
